


now i struggle to recall the reasons you would come to leave

by bellawritess



Series: mashton prompts [6]
Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Angst, Break Up, M/M, Prequel, ashton leaves the band, before you read this and also maybe after!, but i won't tag it, sorryyyyyy, technically this is also based on oh calamity, you should probably read the other oh calamity fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-24
Updated: 2020-06-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:21:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27708938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellawritess/pseuds/bellawritess
Summary: All that Michael can think is that he’s seen this before.
Relationships: Michael Clifford/Ashton Irwin
Series: mashton prompts [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2026598
Kudos: 3





	now i struggle to recall the reasons you would come to leave

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jbhmalum](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jbhmalum/gifts).



> **prompt:** uhh well the prompt was for one of them leaving the band, but i took it and turned it into the oh, calamity prequel lol
> 
> [tumblr link!](https://clumsyclifford.tumblr.com/post/621828786243190784/if-youre-not-taking-prompts-feel-free-to-ignore)
> 
> title from oh, calamity by all time low
> 
> if you haven't read the original oh calamity fic yet, i strongly suggest you do that!!! for context (it's the fic before this one in the series)

All that Michael can think is that he’s seen this before.

He saw it in Zayn, when they toured with One Direction, and he used to look at his own band with pride and a hint of guilt and think, _at least nothing will ever tear us apart. Nothing like that will ever happen to 5 Seconds of Summer._ Now Michael wants to go back and sucker punch his past self. 

Because Ashton is standing in front of them, fingers balled tightly at his side, and Michael wishes he could erase the last ten seconds, even though it’s not just about the last ten seconds. It’s about the last ten hours, ten days, hell, ten months. Ashton’s been struggling for a long time.

But Michael thought he’d gotten _better_.

Calum’s the first to speak. “What? Seriously?”

“Ashton,” Luke says. Michael glances at Luke, but Luke just looks ashen, betrayed and in pain and floundering for something to say. “Are — is this a joke?”

They can all tell from Ashton’s face that it isn’t a joke, but Ashton shakes his head anyway. His hair falls over his forehead. “I wish. I wish it was a joke.”

“Then say it’s a fucking joke,” Michael says quietly, and everyone turns to look at him.

“It’s not,” Ashton says, looking at the floor. Michael wants to shout, _be a fucking man and look me in the eye._

“Ashton,” Calum says. As if his name holds some power over him. Michael wants to think he’s gotten to know Ashton pretty well in their time as a band (although now he’s not sure, second-guessing everything), and he can see the set in Ashton’s jaw, the slump of his shoulders, the way he stands like he’s already defeated but still willing to take the hits. Ashton has made up his mind.

And so has Michael.

“It’s — I’ve already spoken to management,” Ashton says, in the smallest voice ever. Michael is torn between the desperate need to stare him down and the equally desperate desire to never see his face again. “I’m sorry, I am, I just needed to — I wanted —” He breaks off and sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. The stillness in the air is fucking agony. Michael wishes someone would yell. It might be him. “I know this is shitty, but it’s been shitty for me for awhile. A long time. And I haven’t been doing well. This is what I need to do. I’m sorry. I’m so — yeah. I’m just sorry.”

“Take a break,” Luke says, his voice cracking down the middle. “Ashton. You’re leaving? Just like that? After we said — _you_ said —”

“I know, I know, I can’t say I’m sorry enough times,” Ashton says helplessly, reaching up to rub at the back of his neck. His hands haven’t stopped moving. Michael wants to grab them and hold them in place. 

“Why would you talk to management before telling us?” he asks, low but easily heard. Ashton looks beseechingly at him.

“Because I knew you’d convince me to stay,” he says hoarsely. “And I — I can’t. I’m sorry. Michael, I’m —”

“Don’t say you’re sorry again,” Michael says. He tears his gaze from Ashton and stares resolutely at his shoes, stubbornly _not_ crying.

Calum clears his throat. “So, what? You’re leaving the tour? We only have, like, four shows left.”

Of course Calum is thinking logistics. Michael doesn’t know how Calum can think clearly at all. It feels like someone’s stuffed Michael’s chest full of cotton and then poured bleach in the space where his heart should be and now they’re asking how he feels. _Shitty_ , is the answer. Like he’s being slowly eaten away from the inside out. Like jumping in front of a moving train would hurt less than this does.

“I’m finishing the tour,” Ashton says nervously. “But then I’m going home.” He hesitates. “And staying home.”

Luke pushes himself to his feet suddenly and Michael watches him, because he can’t help it. The expression on Luke’s face is so open, so vulnerable, so hurt. For a blinding moment, Michael hates him, too. 

“I’m not mad that you’re leaving,” he says quietly. “If it’s what’s really best for you. But I’m fucking pissed that you didn’t talk to us first. We’re your best friends, Ashton.”

And he stalks back to his bunk, probably to listen to emo music and cry.

“I,” Calum says, and slowly stands. “Uh, I need to think. And be alone. I think. Um. Yeah. Sorry.”

Ashton steps aside to let Calum into the bunk area, and then it’s just him and Michael, and Michael wants to _yell_ or something, wants to punch Ashton in the stomach, wants to kiss him senseless until Ashton can’t remember _that_ he’s leaving, much less why. Fuck. _Fuck_.

“What does this mean for us,” he says flatly.

Ashton gives him a pained look, and that’s all Michael needs to know. If he’s honest with himself, he might have admitted that he’d known what Ashton would say (or not say), but it hurts just the same, like a dagger to Michael’s heart.

Love isn’t supposed to hurt this much. But then again, love isn’t supposed to fucking abandon you the moment you admit to it. 

“You’re an asshole,” Michael tells him, standing up finally. He’s always been a little taller than Ashton, and now he feels it more than ever, especially with the way Ashton is shrinking back, down, becoming as small as possible, the anguish still written so clearly across his face. “You’re an asshole for this, you know that?”

“Michael.”

“Don’t,” Michael says. “I get it. You need to — you’re unhappy, and you need a break, and, whatever, okay, I get it, but you don’t have to leave this, Ashton. You don’t —” _Fuck_. Now it’s Michael’s voice breaking. “You don’t have to leave _me_.”

Ashton just shakes his head. “Michael, it’s not that easy. It’s not just about us.”

“Well, at least it’s all about you,” Michael snaps. The broken pieces of his heart are sharpening into jagged, splintered weapons now, and all Michael can think to do is launch them back at the asshole who’s responsible for them. Distantly, he realizes this is a breakup.

Well. Michael’s not going to let Ashton drag it out. “So we’re done?” he says, before Ashton can say anything. Ashton blinks, and if Michael cared to check he’s sure he’d find tears in Ashton’s eyes. It’s cruel to make Ashton be the one to say it, but it’s also cruel to leave in the first place. And it hadn’t been Michael’s fucked-up idea to leave the band and his maybe-boyfriend.

“I think so,” Ashton whispers. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t fucking apologize to me again or so help me god I will punch your lights out,” Michael growls, and he whips past Ashton and shuts himself in his bunk, back pressed against the wall, heels of his palms burrowing into his eye sockets as if that’ll keep the tears in.

 _Fuck_ Ashton Irwin. Fuck him. Fuck this fucking band. Fuck Luke and Calum. Fuck their shitty fans for putting so much pressure on all of them. Fuck the entire world for being the worst place on the planet. Fuck Ashton for being so insistent on keeping them a secret and then _leaving_ as soon as Michael had admitted that he — 

_Fuck_ Ashton Irwin.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading <3 i'm on tumblr [@clumsyclifford](http://clumsyclifford.tumblr.com/) so come say hey!


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